


Flame on Flame

by ourhospitality



Category: The Left Hand of Darkness - Ursula K. Le Guin
Genre: Everybody lives!au, Fix-It, Meeting the Family, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 12:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17162210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourhospitality/pseuds/ourhospitality
Summary: Written for the 2018 TLHOD Secret Santa!***Genly loves him.He loves every part of Therem, from his calm voice and restless hands to his soft mouth and long lashes. Therem looks at him, and Genly wonders – not for the first time, and not for the last – if Therem could love him too.





	Flame on Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Secret santa prompt: everybody lives!au Genly Ai/Therem Harth. Mutual pining, maybe mixed with bedsharing and/or meeting Therem's family. (I want that good good shipping 👀)
> 
>  
> 
> Title from Kishi Bashi's "Flame on Flame (a Slow Dirge)."
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!!!

It’s been months since Genly has seen Estre. Not much has changed – the door in front of him still gray and unwelcoming as he knocks against it. The door opens after a few moments, and the request for hospitality dies on Genly’s tongue when he sees Sorve on the other side.

“Genry Ai,” Sorve says. He is grim as usual, but Genly recognizes the inquisitiveness in his features. The last time they were together, Sorve had gotten comfortable enough to pepper Genly with questions, which eventually accumulated in an invitation to come and visit during a family holiday. Genly had been unsure at first, and while the memories of Therem haunted him during his stay at Estre, he had agreed to return.

“Sorve Harth,” Genly replies warmly. “Am I in time for the holiday?” It’s incredibly late at night at this point, as his journey up the mountains was slowed by unexpected obstacles. Genly hopes he hasn’t missed too much.

“The preparations for this week have just finished,” Sorve responds. “Most everyone else is in bed. We have a room ready for you.” Sorve pauses, like he wants to say more, but turns instead. Genly quietly follows him into the dark halls.

The room Sorve leads him to is the same as before, and Genly can see the stars reflected in patches on the surface of the lake. The fire needs some extra coaxing, so Sorve tends to it wordlessly while Genly takes in the view of the shadowy mountains.

“Thank you, Sorve. You must be tired.”

Sorve looks to him and blinks a few times. The silence between them is reminiscent of their first meeting. “Is there anything else you need?” Sorve finally says, leaning back on hospitality.

“Just sleep,” Genly answers.

Sorve nods stiffly and stands for a few seconds more, mouth working. _He must have something to ask_ , Genly thinks, but before he can say anything, Sorve is gone.

*

_Genly shivers. Cold wind bites at his nose, and snowflakes as large as coins threaten to blur his vision. He pulls his hood in tighter. The air feels thick like a fog, despite the chill and wind. Ice and deep snow spreads out around him, expansive, flat, and endless._

_Genly knows he’s lost. And alone. Fear rises in him, and he looks around fervently. Every direction looks the same._

“Therem?” _Genly thinks – no, more than thinks. He bespeaks Therem’s name one more time before stopping himself. “Stop it,” he whispers into the fur covering his mouth. “Stop. He’s dead, he’s—“ his words are cut off by another voice in his head._

_“Genry?”_

_Genly’s breath stops short, and he whips his head around in search of the source. Was that – but no, it couldn’t be, could it?_

_“Genry, is that you?” The voice sounds again. Genly’s breath finds him, and he’s about to respond – to find his friend –_

Genly wakes up. His blanket is wrapped tight around him, hands gripping tight and shaking in the fabric. It’s warm, but his teeth chatter. The dream is fading quickly, yet it still feels so _real._

Therem’s voice echoes in Genly’s mind, sparking tears in his eyes. It’s a familiar ache. Genly has woken up like this more times than he can count, though Therem had never bespoke in his dreams before. It’s likely because Genly is here, with Therem’s family, in the home Therem grew up in.

Genly can’t be sure how long it takes to fall back asleep, but it feels like hours.

His rest is fitful and distracted, but Genly does his best to get ready in the morning. Someone had dropped in early to assist in getting him washed and newly clothed. Now he finds himself in his room again before the day’s first meal, alone with his thoughts.

Memories of Therem flood back, unbidden. Genly’s heart hurts. He powers through as he always has, with meditation and mindfulness for the week ahead.

A gift for Sorve sits on the table. Genly picks it up and gently places it back in his bag. There’s not much time left before breakfast, so he leaves his place by the fire and makes for the door.

The halls are filled with the excited chatter of children. Walking to breakfast is a bit hazardous as they weave around Genry, one nearly tripping over his boot. Another stops to look up at him, small eyes open in wonder. “You’re very tall,” the child says, matter-of-fact, and Genly has to suppress a laugh.

The meal isn’t anything special, though Genly does find this particular breakfast-ale to be one of his favorites. The Lord of Estre is not at the table, but Sorve is – he throws a few shifty glances Genly’s way, but does not speak until the end of the meal.

“The Lord of Estre would like to receive you, before any of the day’s activities.”

Genly ponders at Sorve’s renewed politeness, but agrees to follow him to the Inner Hearth. They find the old lord sitting in his rolling chair, hands folded in his lap. He looks worse for wear, though his presence is strong as ever.

“Genry Ai,” the lord says by way of greeting. “Is my son still a traitor in Erhenrang?”

Genly startles, more unprepared for the question than he should be. “With… pressure, the king has recanted,” he manages. This doesn’t truly answer the question, however, so he continues on. “Erhenrang itself is… less vulnerable to pressure.”

The lord blinks slowly. Beside him, Sorve seems agitated, chancing looks at Genly and at the doors on the opposite wall. “Very well,” the Lord of Estre sighs, then gestures to Sorve, something unspoken between them. “Do enjoy yourself this week.”

Sorve perks up at this and motions for Genly to follow him through the set of doors. They walk down a maze of hallways until reaching another room, where Sorve pauses.

“Please,” is all Sorve says as he opens the door, bowing slightly and waving Genly inside.

A figure stands near the fire, like a ghost, and a wave of recognition runs through Genly. The feeling is confirmed when the figure turns his way.

“Therem?” Genly says, too loud. He barely notices his own feet carrying him across the room, until he’s standing next to the fire as well. “ _Therem_?” He bespeaks, because he can’t trust his voice anymore.

“ _Genry_ ,” Therem answers in mindspeak, the smallest of smiles playing on his face.

They stand there for a moment, before Genly throws his arms around him. It’s too much. _Everything_ is too much. He knows he’s crying, but it doesn’t matter, nothing matters except for Therem, tight in his arms. Therem hugs him back, slightly shaky.

“Therem? How—?” Genly tries, but his voice comes out in a sob, so he lets it go. There’s time for answers later. For now, he is content to hold Therem and breathe him in.

After awhile, however, Therem begins to stiffen uncomfortably, and Genly loosens his embrace.

“Genry,” Therem says as he pulls away. There are tears in his eyes as well, catching on his lashes and tracking lines down his cheeks. “I apologize for not contacting you sooner. Things have been… complicated, and I wasn’t sure the best way to relay a message to you.”

Genry shakes his head. All that matters is that Therem is _here,_ and it’s not a dream. He wonders if the mindspeak in his dream had, in fact, been real. But when he finally finds his voice, he knows that he needs to apologize.

“I’m sorry I didn’t keep my promise. What you sacrificed… Therem, I don’t–“

Therem smiles indulgently. “You did what was necessary. What I did was for the Ekumen, for Gethen, and for you. It doesn’t matter what people think of me.”

Genly wants to say more, but Sorve makes a noise by the door, and Therem looks between them apologetically. “We will have more time later. The Lord of Estre is expecting us to participate in the holiday, and I’d rather you stay on his good side.”

 

*

 

The rest of the day goes by quickly, Genly helping with preparations where needed and joining in games, but never straying too far from Therem. Genly’s heart stays lodged in his throat as he watches Therem, and once or twice catches him staring back.

Celebrations on the first day are small, as are the meals, and the two of them are able to break away in the early evening. They end up in Therem’s room, conversation easily falling back into its old rhythm. There’s ale, which calms Genly’s nerves. They don’t talk about Therem’s survival, or about Erhenrang, or about their trek across the ice so long ago now. Instead, they exchange childhood memories, old acquaintances, holidays past.

The ale and the fire is not enough to keep Genly warm tonight, and Therem suggests he use the blanket covering his low bed. Genly spends the rest of the evening sitting on it, the quilt draped around him, while Therem settles in a chair.

Even the lulls in conversation are comfortable, and Genly spends most of the time observing Therem carefully, taking him in. Therem is as beautiful as ever in the low light of the fire.

In time, it grows late. Genly can see Therem’s features growing tired, and he feels his own eyelids shuttering. He is reluctant to leave, and it must show on his face, because Therem murmurs, “You can stay, if you’d like.”

The bed is plenty big enough for the both of them. Therem climbs in after awhile, and Genly moves to the far end to allow more space. The distance between them isn’t much different than their time in the tent.

They lie that way, dozing in companionable silence, until Genly finally falls into a deeper sleep.

 

*

 

_Wind whistles outside, but the tent holds fast. Genly’s back is turned to the Chabe stove. He lies on his side, hand tucked under his chin as Therem sits cross legged in front of him, relaying a story from youth. There’s a softness in Therem’s posture, and it reaches his eyes._

_Genly loves him._

_He loves every part of Therem, from his calm voice and restless hands to his soft mouth and long lashes. Therem looks at him, and Genly wonders – not for the first time, and not for the last – if Therem could love him too._

_The tent door flaps, the whistling wind becoming a roar, distracting Genly from his thoughts—_

And Genly finds himself awake again, an “I love you,” on his lips.

A shock of sadness hits him, as it always does when he wakes from such a dream, but it eases as he wakes further. Therem is curled beside him, facing away and tucked under Genly’s arm. He’s breathing steadily, still asleep.

It’s warm – too warm, really – but Genly pulls Therem closer and relishes the heat. Therem’s thick hair tickles at Genly’s nose. He ducks his head a bit, lips resting on the back of Therem’s bare neck. The skin there is hot and smells of salt and fur.

Genly swallows, grip tightening, and whispers his love against Therem’s spine. Therem snuffles quietly in return. Happy tears prick at Genly’s eyes and threaten to spill over, but he fights them and allows himself to relax back into slumber.

His sleep is comfortable and easy for the rest of the night.

 

*

 

In the morning, Genly wakes to see Therem gazing at him. They lie facing each other, Therem likely having moved away in the night after becoming too hot. Every part of Genly wants to move closer, to tuck Therem back into his embrace, but Therem looks away.

The rest of the morning is quiet between them. There’s a slight edge to their interactions now; Genly unconsciously makes an effort not to get too close, and Therem spends much of his time looking down, away. It’s not unbearably uncomfortable, and they share smiles over breakfast and the morning’s celebrations. But something different is there now, and Genly doesn’t know how to breach it.

The second day of the holiday is more fast paced, Genly being tugged in different directions. It’s probably for the best, as he still doesn’t know what to say to Therem. Regardless, there’s a pull that keeps him aware at all times where Therem is.

The day culminates in an evening of storytelling and drinking. The Lord of Estre starts the gathering with an old legend, but quickly grows tired, and Therem picks up where the story leaves off. Genly listens intently from a seat across the room.

Genly has his own opportunity to tell stories, and he weaves tales from his childhood and the depths of space as best he can. Some of the older children are there, and they listen in wonder and interest. In the middle of explaining his arrival on Gethen, Genly chances a glance at Therem. A feeling of nostalgia blossoms in his chest. How many nights had he and Therem sat together, asking each other question after question? But that time was a world away, and so much had changed since then. Genly couldn’t have known at the time that he would fall so hard for Therem.

Once his time to tell stories is over, Genly accepts a refilled cup of ale. The brewers of Estre are particularly good at their job. It doesn’t take much longer before Genly is relaxed and sated, cheeks warm.

Therem finds him when the evening is winding down. His face is rosy, and without a word he ushers Genly back to bed. Genly is too lethargic to protest – though he likely wouldn’t have anyway.

Despite the uneasiness between them today, sleep comes to them readily.

 

*

 

_It’s dark. The only light comes from the Chabe stove, set low for the night. The wind is calm for once, and Genly’s breathing seems louder than usual. Therem sits stock still beside him, his shaking hands the only thing betraying anything amiss._

_“Genry,” he says, an almost-whisper. His voice is velvety soft. “Please,” Therem starts again, and places a hand on Genly’s knee._

_A thrill runs down Genly’s spine. His heartbeat quickens, and maybe they should discuss this more, but Therem’s presence is overwhelming._

_His lips are overwhelming, too. Genly sucks in a breath as Therem places a kiss near his ear, feather light, then drags down the edge of his jaw. It’s too much, and Genly doesn’t waste any more time._

_They tumble down, Therem on top and still caressing Genly’s neck. Genly grips Therem’s waist, pulling him down further, until Therem is straddling him fully. They both stop, then, to look into each other’s eyes. Therem’s pupils are blown, but his eyes glitter mischievously, and the moment is broken when he begins to move._

_All that follows is fast – uneven and clumsy on Genly’s part, maybe, but Therem is patient. Therem is playful, and delicious, and beautiful._

_Therem is everything._

*

 

“Genry?”

Therem is in Genly’s arms again, though they face each other this time. Therem looks up at him, tired but inquisitive, and Genly lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The dream comes back all at once. He flushes, moving away slightly, but doesn’t let go of his hold.

“Did I wake you?” He asks, embarrassed.

Therem’s eyes are heavy-lidded. “You were talking in your sleep,” he responds drowsily. “I heard my name.”

“Oh,” Genly says dumbly. Therem is already drifting back to his own dreams, leaving Genly to his thoughts and discomfort.

He hasn’t had a dream like this since – well, since their time in the tent, and even then those were few and far between. They would usually dissipate quickly after Genly woke up to the anxiety and exhaustion of another day on the ice.

It’s a lot harder to calm down now. Therem is right in front of him, the two of them are safe, and they are warm. Genly feels his skin heat up more as the blood behind his cheeks pools down his neck and chest. His breathing stutters, but he lies still in an effort not to wake Therem again.

A thought itches at his mind, though, and cools him. He doesn’t know how Therem feels about any of this. Even if he _had_ loved Genly before, it may not be the case now. Too much had happened. Too much _hadn’t_ happened.

With a sigh, Genly pulls his arms back into his own space. He feels drained from the past few months, and from the past few days. It’s a comfort, still, when Therem cuddles closer in search of his warmth.

_This_ , Genly thinks, _is enough_.

 

*

 

Things are surprisingly easier, after that. Sorve, who had been giving both of them space, finds them at lunch. He has questions, as always, and Genly is happy to give answers.

In the middle of giving a complicated response about the Ekumen envoy training, Genly remembers the gift in his bag. “Sorve, I have something for you” he says, and rummages to find it. “It’s a map of the galactic system. Gethen is… here.” He points, Gethen standing out as a silvery marble.

Therem bends over the map as well, breath ghosting over Genly’s fingers. “I haven’t seen this one.”

“It’s from the ship,” Genly grins. “Which I’d also love for you to see, someday.”

Sorve looks up from the map, attention torn.

“You as well, Sorve.” The comment from Genly satisfies him, and he concentrates again on the lines covering the map.

Therem touches Genly’s arm lightly. “Thank you,” he says simply. There’s unbridled affection in his face that even Genly can’t explain away.

 

*

 

Dinner is early and small, to save space for a massive supper. The meal is the largest of the week, before another day of celebrations and rest.

There’s plenty to eat, and plenty more to drink. Genly lets his appetite guide him, exchanging pleasantries with everyone. For the first time in a long time, he feels something akin to _home_.

“Can I have a moment, with you?” Therem asks, behind him.

Genly would be glad to give Therem anything at this point, to be perfectly honest. They end up in an enclosed walkway between buildings. The bricks don’t quite keep out the chill, and Genly shivers.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Therem is looking at Genly with a fond expression. “I was hoping you could meet my family someday. I knew Sorve would take to you.”

Genly chuckles. “Sorve is a lot like you. I’ll admit his curiosity caught me off guard at first.”

Therem’s hands tangle tightly with Genly’s. Genly feels his breathing short as he gets lost in glossy eyes. The moment feels particularly intimate. In fact, he’s never been more intimate with anyone as he has with Therem.

Genly’s gaze dips down unconsciously, stopping at the bow of Therem’s lips. Therem smiles, slight, like a shared secret between them.

“I’m glad you’re here,” whispers Therem again. His grip on Genly’s hands tightens further.

Genly finds himself leaning in. There’s very little space between them now, fogged breath mingling. Therem’s dark eyes glitter through his eyelashes. While Genly is momentarily dazzled, Therem closes the gap.

The kiss doesn’t last long, and it’s cold, but Genly savors every second.

“I love you,” he breathes as Therem pulls away.

“Thank you,” Therem says. His voice is rougher than usual, and his eyes shine with unspoken truths. Genly knows his own eyes must speak the same. “Let’s go inside and get you warmed up.”

Genly nods, though he already feels warm, and lets Therem take him by the hand back into the warmth of celebrations, and of family. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! I'm pretty nervous because I haven't posted writing online in awhile, but I absolutely loved reading TLHOD this year and participating in the secret santa. 
> 
> Happy holidays, everyone! ٩(◕‿◕)۶


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